So I’m here to tell you about the Mexicano Feast BUT first I’m going to make you sit through a story all about my dream last night.
I know, I know. You’re on the edge of your seat.
I think rule number one of blogging is don’t write about your dreams, because dudes? No one gives a shit.
True to form, though, I’m still going to insist on telling you all about it.
Last night I was a theatre backstage person, getting things and stuff ready for going on the stage, and then there were these wolves, and at first they were all ‘rarrr‘ and I was all ‘ah!’ and then they were friendly.
But there was a fire! And I saved them all, even though I totally had to shoot a love-interest with a bow and arrow to get us all out. (It turns out he was working for the enemy!)
Then I was a superhero, with four other superheros, and I was trying to name us all. I’d be all “Oh! You can be Memphis! And you can be Charge, or Zap! And I’ll be Inferno!” And they were all “Lady? You’re not calling me that.” (They were ungrateful superheros. It’s not like they were coming up with better names, they just wanted to be called their normal names.)
(What the hell is ‘super’ about Tom?? Especially when you could have an awesome name like Static!)
Also? We were on a boat. And the sand was red rice. And rocks.
Anyway, the point was? It was a good dream! There were moments of tension, but it was dramatic tension, rather than the all-encompassing feelings of dread, and horror, and anxiety that have been filling my dreams lately. I didn’t wake up exhausted, or frustrated, or freaked out.
I’ve missed having good dreams, I’ve had a real run of awful vivid bad ones.
Anyway, our Mexican Fiesta was fun. It was rather under-attended by the masses, which was fricking HILARIOUS after my second glass of Sangrea.
Originally we were expecting a household full of people, so I decorated, organised, and catered accordingly. Then people we were expecting were busy with weddings (like, seriously, EVERYONE who is anyone got married last weekend) and there was a big concert in Auckland that people were going to. And finally? We had a number of last-minute pull-outs. Naturally, this was after I’d created the crepe-paper fire-hazard.
(Which, you’ll all be pleased to note, did not go up in flames.)
Thinking that the party was going to be significantly bigger and louder than it ended up being I took the precaution of visiting the people who live on the floor below us in the mansion, and inviting them to come on up and share a meal with us.
The neighbors arrived at the point where there were ten of us sitting around in a circle in the lounge eating mexican food, in this room full of balloons, and crepe paper, all dressed ridiculously. They kind of did a bit of a double-take, and said hello before settling uneasily onto one of the couches with a glass of mescal each.
I sat there for a second, soaking up the weirdness of the environment, before bursting into uncontrollable giggles.
Fortunately things got better from there. The food was spectacular, the drinks were appropriately mexicany (which is to say, they all involved tequila in some form or another) and Bradford (the lucha libre in the photo up there) wrote us a song all about the Tango Mexicanna. We all nearly peed ourselves laughing. And then we made him play it again.
I think it was recorded for posterity, so I’m hoping that I’ll be able to post it here some time in the near future – perhaps with some photos of us all being mexican, and ridiculous.
Unfortunately, I took a total of five photos on my phone that night, and most of them were of the ceiling. The others documented my love of my costume:
Unfortunately I wasn’t WEARING the costume at any point in these photos. I was just loving it from afar.
I was a bandito, so rather than put anything together on my own (because I did NOT have time for that) I dropped into the costume cave, and picked out something that looks like a cross between a gun-slinging cowboy, and a bandito. I LOVE this costume. I want to ‘lose’ the gun belt and wear it every day as an actual belt.
And? I LOVE those cowboy boots.
I’ve never worn cowboy boots before, but now that I have? I can quite happily say that I’d be delighted to wear them every day for the rest of my life. They’re comfortable. And they make you swagger.
Also? If you happen to wear them down a steep hill the next morning on your way down to the vegetable market, they will skid out from underneath you, and land you on your ass.
It won’t matter, though, because you’ll sit there for a second, admiring their badass-ness, before jumping back onto your feet, and swaggering on down the hill. You won’t even care that people saw you land on your ass in your ridiculous cowboy boots, because these boots? These boots are awesome.
Yeah. I can’t believe that I failed to take any actual photos of actual people.
Luckily Jasmyne has said that she has photos of us all. Unfortunately initial reports say that I’m giggling like a maniac in all of them, because apparently that’s what happens when you feed me tequila.